Holding On
by happychica
Summary: House's 'Reason' is damaged, and our doc. is going to have to learn how to hold on to pick up the pieces. But will they stay together?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Count your blessings, little man…

Prologue

It was everywhere, coating everything it touched in sticky, red fluid. It crept out of places too small to hold a source; spreading, always seeking untouched places to contaminate.

He'd never been upset by the sight of blood, he saw it nearly everyday. But this was wrong. There shouldn't be this much. Too many people had to have been hurt for this. _So many more than were there. No one could fit in a space that small._ He tried to move, to figure out what had happened, but something was holding him in place, suspending him between one sense of reality and the next.

Struggling, pain shot up his arm, making him yelp. Slowly, he tried again, determined. Determination doesn't stop pain. Gritting his teeth, he settled for simply trying to look around. He couldn't see much; whatever was pinning him down was also blocking a substantial portion of the light. The edges of his sight began to blur, adding to the problem. Closing said eyes, he tried to even out his now panicked breathing.

As his breath regulated, he realized how tired he was. Bone-deep exhaustion was threatening to consume the remaining consciousness as he struggled to the surface once more. Forcing his eye open, he looked around desperately, breath becoming uneven once more.

"Is anyone under here?" a voice called from beyond the encroaching void.

"Yes," he rasped, praying to be heard. "Yes."

"Tom, over here." He'd been found. Thank God. Reluctantly, brown eyes slide closed. He was gone.

TBC

A/N: Ever notice how every ambulance crew seems to have a guy named Tom? Oh well. So yeah, here's the prologue. Some kind of sign would be loved.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

A/N: Sorry!! I don't have an excuse, it's just very slow.

It had been a normal day. Sick people came in, some were healed, most of them left. House could have punched a wall with his head he'd been so bored.

Gregory House _hated _normal days.

So when lunch time came around and a squad of amblunaces was called out, returning with more injured, House didn't really notice. His mind had locked onto the only abnormal part of his day so far.

Wilson was missing.

House wasn't surprised that Wilson called in late; the man was getting over a nastly bought of the flu (another normal thing!). But lunch had come and gone and Wilson was still not here.

Sighing irritatedly, House hung up after hearing the beginning of Wilson's answering machine for the sixth time. Resigned, House grabbed his cane and made his way out of his office. Maybe Cuddy would know where his friend was.

So wrapped up in his thoughts was the diagnostician that he didn't realize said female was right outside his door.

"Watch it-"

"House, thank God. I know you've got a case, but-"

"Calm. Down." House glared steadily at his boss until the brunette had calmed some. This done, House softened to an intense stare. "Now, what's wrong?"

"Wilson, he's was in an accident."

House felt his stomach vanish. Wilson was hurt, maybe badly. "Where is he?"

"The OR. He should be out in a few hours."

Hours. Not good. Definitely bad news. Hours meant high speed, big trucks, _horrible_ injuries.

"House? House. _House!_" House blinked and tried to focus on what Cuddy was saying. Cuddy sighed. "House, go back to work. Your patient needs your attention. I'll call you as soon as I know anything, alright?"

House nodded absently. Cuddy hesitated, then gently gripped his shoulder. He'll be fine. Besides," Cuddy laughed quietly, "he knows you'll kick his ass if he dies."

House blinked uncomprehendingly as Cuddy squeezed his arm and walked off. Absently, the doctor made his way into the conference room attached to his office. Three pairs of eyes looked up to meet him. "What?"

"Patient's presenting with muscle-"

"You know the basics, don't you?" snapped House. "I'm not your babysitter; you can start without me. Chase, you have clinic duty."

Not waiting for a response, House made his way into his office and dropped heavily into his chair. Leaning back, House punched play on his Ipod. Now, he'd wait.

TBC

A/N: Short, but it's done!


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Still. Not. Mine.

A/N: Wow, it's been so long…I'm surprised nobody tied me to my PC yet! Hopefully this will placate…or you'll all come after me….

It was nearly the end of the day before Cuddy came back with any news. Knocking lightly on the door, Cuddy let herself in. House himself had not moved from his chair, Ipod still playing quietly in the background. "I thought you only blasted that thing."

"How is he?"

Cuddy sighed, pulling a folder in front of her face. "He's been injured. Head trauma, broke arm and ankle, massive bruising and blood loss, and a gash across his middle that's going to scar. But he'll live," she added, hoping to ease some of the tension now boiling off of House. While usually fully capable of dealing with the man, Cuddy had never personally had to tell him such news about his dearest friend, and was now beginning to understand why it was a job no one ever wanted.

"Can I go see him?"

"Sure, he's in the ICU, but they'll-"

She was cut off as House brushed past her and out of his office. Even frightened to he point of politeness, House was rough around the edges.

And he was frightened. Not much scared Doctor Gregory House, but the thought of losing the one person who put up with _everything_ House threw at him made the diagnosing cringe. And, though he'd _never _admit it, James Wilson was his closest friend. Sometimes it felt like he was his only friend.

Letting Wilson die just wasn't going to be an option.

-

His injuries weren't supposed to be life threatening anymore. At least, that's what the chart said. But sitting in next to the bed that held his friend, House found that he wasn't sure he believed that. How could someone so pale, yet so colorful, make it? Add the head bandages and the arm sling and House was almost certain there must have been something Cuddy left out.

Of maybe it was just that Wilson didn't usually look so young. He did look several years the junior of his actual age, part of why so many women fell for him, but Wilson always looked old enough to bounce back from life's hardships. Now, he looked much younger, like someone's son.

House glanced over his shoulder through the big glass windows that served as walls for the interior of the hospital. Seeing no one save a lone intern, who was busy inputting file information into a computer, House leaned forward in his chair.

"Wilson, wake up." No response. "You've been asleep all week with that stupid flu, it's time to join the land of the Wakeful." Still nothing. Sighing, House tried once more.

"Come on Jimmy, you can't do this. You need to wake up, prove it's still you in there. Whatever happened to your head could seriously have damaged the friend I knew."

Instinctively, House glanced over his shoulder again. Only Wilson ever got to see anything remotely mushy from House, and something like this was downright sap.

Turning back, House blinked at the unfocused brown eyes watching him. Slowly, Wilson blinked. "Hou...se?"

"About time," muttered the diagnostician, feigning a lack of concern.

"How lon have I been ou?"

"About half a day, I think. You were in a car crash. I told you to drive more carefully."

Wilson frowned weakly. "You sa…I drive…too care…fully."

"Well…I can change my mind." Wilson frowned again, this time weaker than before. Noticing his friend's struggle, House stamped out the urge to keep Wilson awake. He was only doing it to soothe his fears anyways. "Go back to sleep."

"You just sa-"

"I know what I said, Jimmy, now I'm saying something else. Go back to sleep. You'll need all the rest you can get."

"I jus spet a week in bed."

House smiled. "I know, and now you're going to spend a lot more time in one."

Wilson groaned.

TBC

A/N: Not my best, but it's something. If I could remember what I was planning to do to the poor boys, this thing would go much faster, methinks.


End file.
